


Can't We Be Friends?

by Liadt



Category: Bulman
Genre: Anti-Slash, F/M, Friendship, do i have to?, post-series 1 pre-series 2, spoliers for end of series 1, the title says it all, very mildly dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liadt/pseuds/Liadt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy takes two steps forward, George takes two steps back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't We Be Friends?

Lucy and George dumped their belongings on the floor. Their new apartment wasn’t spacious, but they had been assured it was roomy for Shanghai. 

“The back room of the office was bigger than this,” said Lucy, stretching her arms out.

“At least it has separate rooms,” said George, putting the door keys down on to a small, drop-leaf table.

“I think ‘separate cupboards’ is more accurate.”

“I’ve had worse digs. Anyway, we don’t need as much room.”

“We don’t?” said Lucy.

“Your earring collection was getting out of control back home.”

“George!” Lucy threw a cushion off the sofa at him.

“Do that again and I’ll have to perform a citizen’s arrest on you,” joked George, avoiding the flying cushion.

“Don’t talk to me about arrests,” said Lucy, becoming tearful. The stress of having to make a moonlight flit to China to avoid hit men, who had a contract out on George and the months where she had worried if George would get out of jail in one piece had got to her.

George came up to Lucy and gave her a brief hug. “It’s all over now.” 

Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Mostly. I was planning to visit here one day. China: land of the great Eastern philosophers.”

“Oh, George, when I thought what could have happened in jail and the dummy with the hangman’s noose…” Lucy locked her arms around George’s neck and kissed him, but not in the way a friend would.

George pushed Lucy away and leap back like a scalded cat. Finding the wall at his back, he wished he’d stretched his finances to a bigger flat.

“Don’t act like I’m a madam at a brothel who’s asked you if there’s anything she can do, to get you to drop charges,” admonished Lucy.

George ran a finger around the collar of his denim shirt. He hoped the heat in his cheeks was from embarrassment. “It’s not right, Lucy.”

“I know I’m a lot younger than you, but it’s not as if I’ve just turned sixteen. It‘s too late to worry about my maidenhood, you know.”

“I think of you as a cross between the daughter I never had and a good bloke. I thought you saw me as a father figure, Tom McGinty’s daughter. I know after I’ve done a job, where my opos have been in danger, the strain can make you act out of character. Before the whole jail affair, you weren‘t getting hot and bothered when I was putting on my shirt in the kitchen were you?” said George.

“No, but love’s not all about looks it’s about the essence within,” persisted Lucy.

“You sound like one of your drippy suitors trying to get into your knickers by pretending they’re interested in you for your mind and not your body.”

“Isn’t my mind worth investigating?”

“I know how bloke's minds work when faced with an attractive, young woman.”

“Ha, you called me attractive,” said Lucy, smugly.

“I can tell a handsome bloke from the back end of a bus, it doesn’t mean I fancy him,” scowled George.

“Roll on the 1990’s. You are allowed to go out with people who aren’t ex-coppers wives.”

George winced. “You’re already saying stuff that’ll make me want to break up with you.”

“I’m sorry, but if you excuse the cavewoman expression: you’re a man and I’m a woman. We do get on well - better than many couples.”

“Yes, we do, but you got on well with your father didn’t you?”

Lucy gave George an exasperated glance and waggled her finger at him. “One kiss, George, a proper one with tongues that’s all I ask and don’t look like you’re about to throw up.”

“If it’ll show you the error of your ways,” said George reluctantly. When Lucy wanted to do something, it was impossible to resist. If it weren’t for Lucy’s pushing, he wouldn’t have become a private detective.

“Good,” said Lucy, stalking up to an awkward George. “You have done this before, haven’t you?” she gently teased.

“I’m George Kitchener Bulman, not George Bernard Shaw,” said George, regaining some of his usual grumpiness and tentatively put his arms around her.

Lucy smiled. She snaked one hand around the back of his neck and kissed him. Technically speaking, it wasn’t a bad kiss, thought Lucy, although it would be better if George didn’t have his eyes so tightly shut.

Lucy broke the kiss and George immediately opened his eyes. “Is it all over now?” he asked.

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “If you’d relax in to it and not act as if your tea didn’t have any HP sauce on it.”

George sighed. “If you were my real daughter I wouldn’t do this.” George dipped his head back down to kiss Lucy. Lucy nearly pulled back in surprise; she hadn’t expected him to take the lead the way he‘d been acting. George deepened the kiss and pulled her closer.

Was this a mind trick? Lucy hoped it was, because she wasn’t feeling the way she thought she would. George’s body was comfortably warm and made her feel she had something to rely on if the boiler broke down - hardly the stuff of Mills and Boon. Her mind began to wander as they kissed and when she started wondering if she had bought enough cleaning products when kissing…

Lucy ended the kiss.

“Do you always have to break a kiss?” said George.

Lucy frowned.

“I was just getting into it,” said George.

Lucy searched his eyes and to her relief saw no desire in them. “You’re right. You’re a good kisser, but it was missing a spark.”

“You’re not bad for a young girl yourself,” said George, squirming a little. “Shall we get drunk and forget about it? For isn’t platonic love the greatest of all?”

Lucy smiled. “I prefer to remember my mistakes, so I can learn from them. And it wasn’t too bad an experiment was it?”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh well, maybe in ten years time;p


End file.
